I am fire.
Let's burn it all down.
When a person is born, a family register is created for them.
If you receive medical care at a hospital, a record of your visits will be kept; if you attend school, a record of your enrollment will be kept.
Walking around town means you might be caught on surveillance cameras, and using a credit card records your purchase history.
That's how traces of their lives are left behind.
The records are piling up.
It's not just records that will be left behind.
When you interact with people, you leave a lasting impression on someone's memory.
Even if you become a recluse and never leave your home until you die, someone you met in the past might unexpectedly remember you, even if only for a few seconds.
So, there was a person like that, huh?
...But I'm different.
I, named Polina, leave almost no trace behind.
First, let's record it.
It has been thoroughly erased.
Next, memory.
The person who possesses this has been erased.
Any guinea pigs in the room are disposed of, and those in management who know the inside story meet their end as payment for a contract with the fire demon.
Only two survivors know me.
The first one, Anastasia, is about to die. She will disappear.
The second Reze—Reze alone is different.
Only Reze will survive. She will retain my memories. She will remember me even after I die.
that's why.
If Reze dies, it's as if I never existed.
If Reze forgets about me, it's as if I never existed.
To be honest, I wasn't a very good person, and I might not have any value, but even so, I think it would be incredibly sad to have all traces of me wiped away and be treated as if I never existed in the first place.
"—So, in order to make Reze remember me, to engrave myself more and more deeply into her memory, I'm going to kill Reze's precious comrades. ...Is that a good reason to fight?"
"...60 points!"
The future demon's scoring was scathing.
Polina simply walked, enveloped in the sound of raindrops pattering against the branches and leaves.
The darkness of the night has grown so profound that it's no longer possible to see deep into the forest.
Raindrops were falling from the canopy of branches and leaves. Stepping on the damp, decaying leaves, I sank as if into mud.
Polina considers the following reasons.
"Well then, how about this one..."
Guinea pigs were sacrifices for the Soviet Union.
The Soviet Union grew stronger for every guinea pig that suffered and every one that died.
By becoming more assertive towards other countries, they could secure more favorable terms. As a result, the Soviet Union would become wealthier, and its citizens would be able to live better lives.
Thanks to us.
Therefore, we guinea pigs have the right to collect from the Soviet people the same amount of wealth we have provided them.
"Hmm. So that's why you burned Moscow? ...Then what about turning your blade on other people, like guinea pigs in the same situation as you?"
"Well, let's see..."
There were disparities even among the guinea pigs.
Those who excelled do not know the suffering of those who did poorly.
In a nightmarish environment where the average score kept rising because the lowest performers were being "expelled" one after another, the prevailing notion was that it was only natural for idiots who couldn't master five languages to be disposed of, and weaklings who couldn't subdue a knife-wielding special forces member with their bare hands would remain weak no matter how much they grew up, so there was no point in treating them. That's why the top-performing guinea pigs had no idea how much the underachievers who were constantly on the failing line feared the word "deduction." The top students had no idea what it was like for those premature babies who lived in fear of being sent to the laboratory, suffering from insomnia, anorexia, white hair, and having no choice but to rely on self-hypnosis and their own made-up religions to survive each day.
Therefore, as a pathetic, worthless guinea pig, I have the right to make the more successful guinea pigs experience similar suffering.
"So, what about the other unrelated people?"
"Hmmmm..."
Children in refugee camps are being kidnapped.
Because they become commodities in the organ trafficking industry. Because the rich want them.
Normally, transplant recipients would have to wait their turn until the registered donor dies. They would have to sit idly by for 5, 10, or even 15 years while those who requested transplants earlier receive theirs.
But the rich buy their place in line.
They pay a large sum of money to cut in line.
They buy time. That's why organs have to be available immediately, demand rises, prices go up, and as a result, a business of abducting orphans becomes viable.
There are two kinds of rich people.
Those who pay the full amount themselves are still acceptable. I can't agree with them, but I can understand them.
But what I absolutely cannot understand are those who try to raise money through fundraising.
Amazingly, they try to raise money through donations to cut in line. They play the role of unfortunate victims, shouting in the streets, "Donate to save so-and-so's life!" Everyone donates out of goodwill. In other words, the people of such a country, even if they are unaware of it, are broadly and subtly complicit in organ trafficking.
Therefore, I—I wasn't even an orphan, yet I was snatched away and taken by the Soviet Union simply because I was in a refugee camp—have the right to retaliate against the Japanese who were the root cause of it all.
"What do you think of that?"
"...50 points!"
"Huh, isn't that low?"
"But you're not being honest, are you?"
"Well, it's not exactly a lie, but it's not serious either. It's just that kind of excuse."
The demon of the future is looking down from the branches of a tree.
As the girl ventured deeper into the darkness, another body sprouted on a nearby branch to catch up. That's how they continued their conversation.
"So, deep down, you don't really resent anyone, do you?"
"I agree"
A dazzling brilliance gleams faintly in the darkness.
The demon of the future shifted its body to match the girl's steps, its six eyes continuously fixed on her.
Neither good nor bad. Just the gaze of a devil who is simply curious.
A girl with nothing.
The beliefs, desires, and hopes that I should have grasped in the flow of life have all been taken away from me.
A source of pride. A source of desire. A future to dream of. All of these are gone. All that remains is a frustration with nowhere to go... a pent-up grievance with nowhere to vent. That pressure is rising to its limit due to the time limit of life.
I don't care who it is anymore. I don't care how it's done. I don't care about the consequences afterward.
"But, yeah..."
"yeah?"
"If I had to choose someone to truly hate...it would probably be Veronica..."
"Are you friends?"
"Stop it. I really, truly wanted to... kill him..."
"Heh heh... That was quite an amusing thing to do. I wish I could have gotten my revenge!"
"Seriously. They're dead and nowhere to be found... This world really sucks."
The devil of the future smirks.
This demon has no purpose.
If there was one chance for revenge, it was only one, but even that opportunity was taken away before it could begin. He wasn't even allowed to make a fist.
So, what do we do?
Just because a person has nothing they want to do or nothing they should do, can they simply wither and die like a dead tree?
—No, that won't happen.
Having nothing means having no shackles.
The pent-up frustrations erupted unexpectedly.
"--"
Polina stopped walking.
Standing on the edge of the cliff.
One step ahead is empty space; moving forward will only lead to a fall.
The demon of the future peered down at the riverbed below.
There were two bodies.
The German girl and the Chinese girl—the devil chuckled as he gazed at the Chinese girl's corpse.
"Heh heh heh... Didn't I tell you? They had the worst possible deaths. For both of them."
"...Really? What's so terrible about this? I thought it had a good ending."
"You look like you think you've done nothing wrong... Heh heh, huhuhuhuhu... By believing that, humans can become more devilish than demons themselves."
"It's not like that. Those kids would have been even more unhappy if we'd left them alone, you know?"
Polina sings.
In this world, there are people who just don't mesh with each other.
There are some people who just can't do anything right.
Those who have nothing can never be happy, no matter how hard they try. As time passes, they continue to sink deeper and deeper into the abyss. They will never rise again.
"They had family by their side. They were able to follow the path they chose for themselves. Isn't that a good life?"
Polina stared intently at the corpse below with a lingering, unsettling gaze.
"For those who have nothing, it's better to die quickly and cleanly."
"Hmm... That's a bleak future!"
At that moment, a flash of light streaked across the darkness of the night.
A delay followed, a deafening roar. The air trembled.
"So you finally defeated it?"
Polina turns her face towards the spot where the bridge used to be.
The trees blocked the view, but I understood that the explosion marked the end of the matter.
Reze and Anastasia must have delivered the final blow to the demon that was hunting humans.
The demon of the future opens its eyes wide.
"Polina, why are you going to betray us?"
"Because I want to try it."
it's raining.
The cliff edge offered no shade from branches or leaves. Yet Polina remained completely dry. The countless raindrops falling seemed to evaporate and disappear with a sizzling sound about 50 cm above her skin.
It was a strange sight.
It was as if an invisible raincoat was floating around her.
Of course, this is due to the power of the Fire Demon.
She evaporates every single raindrop that approaches, without even looking.
"The claim that 'the effective range of ignition is within the line of sight'... so it was a lie after all."
"I'm not lying. I'm sure I told you clearly that I would tell you Anastasia's weakness."
"It's not yours, is it? ...Judging from the looks of it, you seem to be more powerful?"
"...The fire demon likes humans. Especially stupid, idiotic ones who have no hesitation in burning their entire being."
"Heh heh... I guess we're a good match... But you're not going to have a good ending."
"You're still here because you want to see it, right?"
"That's right... Do you want to know what kind of ending awaits you? You..."
"I don't care about the future."
"It's too late now," Polina said, twisting her cheeks into a sarcastic grin. "I'm not afraid of any kind of death now. The most terrifying thing would be having to continue living miserably," she declared, lowering her gaze to the bottom of the valley.
Santa Claus was dead.
Now there's no one left to get in our way.
Having confirmed that her concerns had vanished, Polina turned on her heel, but stopped before immediately beginning to walk.
He begins to shake his shoulders slightly.
"As for why I would betray you... I don't really have a proper reason... hehe... but if I had to give one then-"
He grinned.
It was a smile that anyone trying to live life positively could never understand. It was a desperate, reckless, defiant smile.
"I want to become someone...! I don't care what anyone thinks of me. I just want to leave my mark on this world, cause trouble, and get that feeling of 'I did it!'... That's all! Heh heh heh... Indiscriminate is the best! I'm gonna do it! May all of humanity be unhappy!"
Remaining lifespan: just over an hour.
The invincible girl begins to walk.
@
"Heh heh heh... You should have just kept a close eye on it..."
The future demon, who remained at the edge of the cliff, narrowed its six eyes.
Something was slowly falling from where the bridge had been, from the spot where the explosion had occurred. A small piece of flesh... A piece of flesh from the human-hunting demon, scattered by the explosion of Bomb Girl—it splattered into the valley below.
Tender pieces of meat.
It's trembling.
The mass of flesh, about the size of an adult's fist, paused for a moment, then protruded from within, each rod covered in a hard outer shell. Twelve rods appeared, each with segments, and when they struck the ground, they skillfully moved the mass of flesh.
It was a leg that had grown from a piece of demon flesh.
They crawl like insects, stepping over the stones on the riverbed.
Eventually, they came across the corpse of a young girl.
Blonde hair and blue eyes.
The corpse of a girl who was called Santa Claus.
A piece of the devil's flesh fused to his wounded heart.
It dissolves and mixes with the wound, and eventually the boundary disappears. It becomes a single living organism.
The corpse's finger twitched.
The girl gripped a stone on the riverbed with her hands, and using the ground as a pivot point, she lifted her elbows and slowly raised her upper body.
"..."
The girl called Santa Claus rises up.
The girl's body is growing little by little. Her limbs are stretching out like a fast-forwarded video, and her golden, straight hair reaches her waist.
It had strangely shaped horns growing from its head.
"'When I die, parasitize me'... It seems to have worked..."
Her long hair rustled and swayed. It wrapped around the voluptuous figure of a mature woman, braided into a military uniform. The "SS" insignia gleamed on the collar. As she stood up, the sound of her military boots echoed across the riverbank.
Santa Claus has been resurrected as a demon who hunts humans.
"The urge to hunt humans, the murderous impulse... it's still strong... How did the Soviet Union manage to put these demons into practical use...?"
Santa Claus shook his head slightly.
A distorted horn, incongruous with its beautiful features, cut through the air. It was shaped like a swastika, brutally slicing apart anyone it caught.
My struggle is here.
Once upon a time, when humanity still remembered the World Wars, there was a group that everyone immediately thought of when they heard the words "human hunting." They were diligent and honest, rule-abiding, and driven by efficiency, they ruthlessly sought to eradicate the Jews. The Wachen and the Allgemeine. The name of that terrifying group—but it was erased by Chainsaw Man. No one knows them anymore. They will never be remembered.
but.
It definitely existed.
Even if records and memories are lost, DNA remains. The genes of the world's most brutal human-hunting groups and the countries to which they belonged remain.
"We must... eradicate them... every single one of them..."
Compatibility.
Santa Claus's nature—prioritizing his mission above all else and being able to be utterly ruthless—matched that of a demon hunting humans.
Furthermore.
"Demon of Darkness"
Kneel respectfully,
He bowed his head.
"As per the agreement, I have found your greatest enemy."
I looked up at the void and swore to slaughter.
"Please... grant me the power to kill the minions of the fire demon."
distort.
Space becomes distorted.
From a dimensional rift beyond human comprehension, a massive demonic arm emerges. Before Santa Claus's eyes is a darkness like a drop of ink, a writhing mass of flesh.
He opened his mouth with a look of joy on his face and swallowed it down.
"Heh...hehehe..."
Its body color is darkening.
It went beyond brown and surpassed jet black.
It was even darker than the night. Its appearance closely resembled a bird called the bird of paradise, which inhabits the southwestern Pacific region. A humanoid figure, the color of Vantablack—the world's most intense black, which absorbs 99.95% of light, making its surface patterns and irregularities invisible, and appearing like a floating black hole even in daylight—vibrated the air.
"This is the power of darkness... It's amazing. It can purify everything."